


The first five phases of adding a newborn baby to your life, by Kurt and Blaine Hummel-Anderson

by lostinfictionalworlds



Series: Forevermore [8]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, first diaper changing, first night home alone with baby, first night out without baby, klaine daddy firsts, rachelbabysits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:10:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3970453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinfictionalworlds/pseuds/lostinfictionalworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A semi-kinda autobiographical guide to New born parenting, by none other than our favorites.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New born

**Author's Note:**

  * For [voyagehk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voyagehk/gifts).



> This was born based on a prompt based convo I had with one of my dear friends and beta’s. Thank you to voyageasia for the inspiration for this little piece : ) I hope you like.  
> Mistakes are my own, I get too excited and just like to post instantly.

_Phase 1; The first day, bring her home._

 

Blaine tries not to flinch so obviously or jump up to high in his seat as the cab jerks forward and the sights of the busy streets outside of the car’s window whoosh by him like lightning, accompanied by sounds of busy traffic, over used vehicle engines and impatient car horn and bicycle bells.

 

He looks down cautiously to the space beside him. A plastic and fabric dove gray colored carry-car seat is wedged carefully into place beside his thigh, secured by a seatbelt along with Blaine’s gentle hand resting over a bundle made up of soft, light, wool knitted blankets and tiny white socked feet.

 

To Blaine’s relief, he finds two little eyes remained tightly closed, pink lids flittering gently in some dream like state. A tiny button nose scrunched up in sleep and thin, pink lips pursed together so, so adorably.

 

Blaine smiles widely, almost uncontrollably and huffs out an obvious sigh of relief as he watches the baby, _his newborn baby daughter_ , sleep on soundly, undeterred by the rattle of the fleeting cab and the sounds of busy New York outside.

 

Blaine’s free hand which is resting on his other thigh is suddenly covered by the familiar, moisturizer soft, warmth of his husband’s palm. Blaine turns to look at Kurt and smiles at him warmly, knowingly.

 

“I can hear you worrying, you know.” Kurt says, his eye brow arched some. “She’s fine.”

 

“I know. I just don’t want her to wake up yet, she needs her rest. She’s just been born like _six hours_ ago.” Blaine shrugs, his face alight with expression and Kurt chuckles softly, his lovely blue eyes lighting up as they search his husband’s face.

 

“Yeah, I’m aware of that honey. But you do know, that she is going to dictate to us perfectly well when she needs her sleep and when she does not want to sleep? I think she has that under control. The quicker she gets used to New York speed and traffic the better, I say.”

 

Blaine grins, nodding at Kurt and shrugs his shoulders. He flips their hands so that his is now resting on top of Kurt’s and strokes his fingers over Kurt’s knuckles, feeling pacified and deeply satisfied in a way he never knew he could.

 

He only winces once or twice again during the journey home as the cab driver takes a corner a little too enthusiastically.

 

*

 

Eventually, _finally_ and not a moment too soon in Blaine’s mind, the cab pulls up to the curb outside of their Upper East Side town house.

 

Kurt thanks the driver and pays him as best as he can with a diaper bag strung around his chest, a silver helium balloon shaped like a pacifier tied around his wrist with a pretty ivory ribbon, and his hands full of bags of groceries and gifts.

 

Blaine carefully un-straps the car seat and lifts it gently up and out of the cab, complete with a sleeping baby safely cocooned inside. It’s so strange the feeling that washes over him just by doing something so simple as this. He feels important and noble and like he would take on a fire breathing dragon right now on the sidewalk if it were to come between him and the carrier held tight within his grasp.  

 

After trailing up the few concrete steps, a rather humorous juggle while trying to locate the house keys from somebody’s back pocket and finally opening the door, they’re finally inside. _Home, altogether, at last._

 

Their normally clean and clear entrance hallway greets them with multiple strings of brightly decorated banners hung from ceiling to wall. There are vases, boxes, baskets and many bouquets of fresh, sweetly smelling flowers all in bright, vivid colors placed on every available surface, and a stack of unopened cards and neatly wrapped packages waiting on their fabulous flea market-find side table.

 

Blaine’s eyes tear up a little randomly as he takes in the sight before him, and before he’s aware of what’s even happening he starts to sneeze instantly, erratically. The over indulge in pollen obviously has become too much for somebody with an unknown allergy problem. Figures.

 

His face turns into a mask of utter distress at the thought of waking his daughter, and so before Kurt can even start putting away everything that they’ve brought home with them, he has to transport every single flower to their conservatory and slide the frosted glass doors closed. He tuts and shakes his head at his ridiculous but so helplessly cute husband as he goes, making a mental note to remember this moment to throw back in Blaine’s face when the time may call for an embarrassing anecdote.

 

Kurt then sets about tidying things away, placing all of Katie’s required items in their newly designated areas. He checks the answering machine messages, smiles at all of the funny and heart warming greetings and fills the kettle with water in preparation for the first bottle feed (and for he and Blaine’s caffeine needs.)

 

All the while Blaine heads into the lounge to set up what he has named ‘the baby camp’. He places the carrier carefully on top of the heavy, oak coffee table and takes a seat on the couch, just a foot in front, with his hands on his knees, his eyes attached firmly straight ahead and just…watches.

 

A short while later Kurt joins him, he hands Blaine a mug, takes a seat pressed close to Blaine’s side and with his head in his hands, leaning forward, he also just…watches.

 

The pair simply flick their gazes silently, simultaneously between each other and the baby resting comfortably just inches away. Their eyes saying everything that their mouths do not need to translate.

 

“Welcome home, Katie.” Kurt whispers after a while, his throat a little tight and his chest so full and deep with love and happiness.

 

“I hope you’ll be happy here, baby girl. As happy as we are to have you here.” Blaine sniffles, nudging his shoulder into Kurt’s.

 

“I just know that she will be.”

 

They sniffle some more, clear their throats and sip from their mugs, and only when Katie starts to wriggle and stretch, her little face wrinkling and her eyes starting to blink open sleepily, does Blaine speak again.

 

“…Uh Kurt, now what do we do?”

 

*

 

_Phase 2; Make it through the first night with minor mishap._

 

The day feels long and still not long enough as the first day to have their baby home with them as the evening sets in. The curtains have been drawn, beds have been made, and as it was his turn on rotation for a quick break Kurt had warmed some milk, baked pop tarts and changed into a pair of yoga pants and a comfortable shirt, ready for the night time routine to begin.

 

A little around nine-ish just when they foolishly were starting to think that they’re getting the hang of this ‘parenting thing’, Blaine finds himself, dressed in an old Dalton gym tee and sweat pants, perched on his knees on the floor in the middle of the lounge.

 

His tiny daughter is spread out in front of him on a changing mat, her little, bare, pink skinned body all wrinkled and bunched up as she wiggles around furiously, wailing at the top of her lungs with bright red cheeks and screwed shut eyes.

 

Blaine does not think he has heard such a sound before.

 

“Sshh, sshh. I know baby girl, I’m sorry. I’ll be done real quickly if you could just hold still for just a moment while daddy puts this fresh, clean diaper on you, then you’ll be happier, I promise.” Blaine soothes as his hands flap around her swinging legs as he tries to reach for the wipes and diaper sack and other changing items, by his knee.

 

Of course, she doesn’t stay still and before Blaine can situate the new diaper underneath her little bottom, and dress her in a clean night time onesie, he finds his shirt soaking wet with big splashes over his stomach and chest.

 

“That’s great. Thank you, sweetheart. Do you feel better now?” And to Blaine’s utmost shock and amusement, Katie’s cries dampen to gentle whimpers, her little writhing body slowing to cute little kicky feet.

 

“She got you again?” Kurt says his smile evident in his voice as he walks through, a pile of folded romper suits, and bibs in his hands. He comes to stand behind Blaine and leans down a little, clucking his tongue at Katie who now seems more pacified and carefree.

 

“Yup.” Blaine says tight lipped and nods as he reaches up to swipe a clean sleep suit from Kurt’s hands.

 

“Didn’t mention the constant flow of urine in those books huh?” Kurt asks, smiling as Blaine shakes his head from side to side silently.

 

He spends a few moments to just stare down at Katie for a short while, watching as Blaine carefully cleans her up with the utmost precision and care and dresses her for bed, again. Kurt drinks in the whole situation, their beautiful baby and his wonderful husband taking care of her so magnificently.

 

It’s hard to believe that he gets to experience this, in their home, like this every day, from now on and for years to come.

 

Kurt makes a kissy face and blows a kiss down towards Katie before bending down to place a soft kiss to Blaine’s hair, now a little frizzy from a days worth of newborn fuelled excitement.

 

“It’s a good job you spent all that money at Barnes and Noble then, huh?” Kurt says, not too dryly, more amused than anything and skips away out of the room.

 

Hours after that sees the family at two am, with Kurt sat up in bed cradling a very awake, happy baby in his arms, her lips ringed in milky white with the remnants of her latest feed, and Blaine transporting a hamper of tiny, dirty clothes to and from their designated laundry room.

 

When Blaine finally settles back into bed a half hour later, with the buzz and whir of the washer and dryer working away downstairs, Kurt looks at him very seriously and thoughtfully.

 

“What is it?” Blaine says tiredly, looking back at him as he peeks up into Kurt’s folded arms and smiles at Katie, tucked into Kurt’s bare chest, her tiny hands fingers splayed against his skin. If he wasn’t too tired he would get up in search of his camera to capture the moment. His cell phone battery is already dead because of many photograph moments Blaine just had to capture.  

 

“I’m just thinking…” Kurt whispers, looking a little lost and dazed but still as handsome as ever, and perfectly naturally with his tousled hair and daughter nestled into his chest. “When in the heck are we going to find the time to fill out thank you cards for the Royal Botanic Gardens currently growing in our conservatory?”

 

Blaine laughs until he falls asleep. Until that is, he’s woken again in roughly two hours time with a very hungry daughter and spit up all over his sheets, mattress and himself.

 

*

 

_Phase 3; Never expect you or her to be one hundred percent clean and presentable. There will always be a ‘situation’._

 

The next morning there is just enough time for Katie’s feed and a half cup of coffee each before the first ‘emergency situation’ occurs.

 

“We have an EBS.” Blaine says, eerily calm, standing in the doorway of their bedroom wearing nothing but a pair of pillar-box red boxers.

 

“What?” Kurt replies, not even looking up at him as he replaces the sheets on their bed for the second time in just under five hours. After five years of a wonderful marriage, Blaine’s little outbursts and new additions to his vocabulary do not surprise Kurt all that much.

 

“E.B.S.” Blaine repeats firmly yet quietly, and when Kurt eventually does look up at him, he sees his husband holding their daughter as carefully as he can in his arms, both of them covered pretty evenly in what Kurt can only see and smell and just _know_ to be poop.

 

“Oh my god.” Kurt mutters behind his rising hand as it flies towards his face.

 

“Emergency bath situation.” Blaine clarifies with a stern nod and then swiftly heads in the direction of their bathroom with Kurt hot on his heels, grabbing little bottles of talcum powder and creams and such as he goes.

 

For the next fifteen to twenty minutes as the pair bend over a tiny little plastic tub on their bathroom floor and team up and discover just how difficult it is to bathe a tiny, dirty, slippery, messy baby who simply does not want to get wet; all Kurt can think about is what will their neighbours think of all this screaming, and will every bath time be like this?

 

*     

 

_Phase 4; Thou shalt not irritate the superbly trained, wonderfully talented, and incredibly busy medical elite._

 

Three days later emergency strikes again in a rather different form and whilst Blaine paces the floor of their lounge, Kurt watches and tries to think what their code name for this situation can be.

 

“Kurt, she shouldn’t be making this much noise.”

 

“Blaine, honey, she has hiccups. It’s ok calm down.”

 

Blaine cradles Katie close to his chest and rubs a hand soothingly over her back in small circles. “But they’re so loud, why are they so loud? They just came out of nowhere. The books say nothing about this.” Blaine gestures wildly with his chin over to the coffee table where every baby book and guide he’d bought sits spread open on the surface.

 

Kurt starts to get a slight wave of dizziness from where his head is moving from side to side, watching Blaine pace back and forth in front of the TV. “Honey, just come and sit down with me and lets watch the end of Downton. It’s the series finale. She’s ok honey, she’s practically asleep. The hiccups will stop eventually.” He hopes.

 

To Kurt’s relief and fear of his husband’s well being, Blaine does as he’s told, he listens to Kurt and comes to sit down on the couch with Katie tucked happily against his chest and stomach.

 

An hour or so later, its eleven thirty pm, Downton has been on pause fifteen minutes with just four minutes until the end and Blaine is on the phone to the emergency paediatrician’s office.

 

“So?” Kurt whispers, a little later that night/morning. He lifts his chin up and away from Katie’s Moses basket as Blaine softly pads into the room, lights shutting off behind him in the hallway, with the phone pressed to his chest. There are small purpling bags developing under his eyes, but a small half smile on his lips which seems more important.

 

“You were right.” Blaine starts as he steps into the bedroom and over to the bed. He pulls Kurt into his arms away from their now calm and sleeping, hiccup free daughter and down on to the mattress with him. “Doc says that’s it’s a very common thing to happen, but she was so nice and said that it’s normal for first time parents to freak out about it.”

 

“Parent.” Kurt accentuates, emphasizing the T and giggles quietly, so very aware of their sleeping child when Blaine nudges him down onto his back.

 

“Anyway, she said to call again if we have any other concerns, and she’ll be happy to consult…hey what? Quit laughing at me.” Blaine says, although he ends up giggling himself, and has to cover both his and Kurt’s mouth with his hands to stifle any loud bursts of laughter.

 

Kurt rolls on to his side, blinking back at his husband ever so fondly. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, it’s just, you’re so sweet and adorable and I love you so much, and I love how much you care about Katie…”

 

“I worship her, Kurt.” Blaine whispers, his tone so sincere like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He reaches out to take one of Kurt’s hands and envelopes it within both of his on top of his stomach. “She’s been in my life for three days, but I can’t imagine life without her. I would do anything for her. It’s crazy.”

 

“It’s not crazy.” Kurt whispers back. “Its _love_ , and I know the feeling all too well.” And then Kurt leans in and presses his lips softly to Blaine’s over and over, and with the soft sleepy snuffles of the other love of their lives coming from the basket by the foot of the bed, the pair fall asleep happily in each others arms, if only for just a short while.

 

As it happens the next time Katie’s paediatrician receives a call from the Hummel-Anderson household, its two days later at eight am, with Kurt clutching at the phone frantically and Blaine hovering in the background swaying a seemingly happy if just a little runny-nosed Katie, in his arms, and the fondest expression on his face while he watches Kurt talk a mile a minute into the phone.     

 

*

 

_Phase 5; Take advantage of any and all offers for a night of ‘adult interaction’, you’ll never know how long they’ll keep coming for._

 

Katie is one month and ten days old when ‘Aunt’ Rachel stops by for her usual (most) daily visit and finally says the two very simple words that some parents love to hear, and some utterly dread to hear.

 

_“I’ll babysit.”_

 

When Katie was two weeks old, Burt and Carole and Blaine’s mother Pam and even Cooper came to New York for a few days, to welcome the newest member into the family. On the first night of their stay Burt and Carole took over night time duties so that Kurt and Blaine could have a well deserved, fully recuperating and replenishing night of undisturbed sleep. In the morning, Pam took over feeding, bathing and changing duties and after breakfast Cooper was given the responsibility of keeping the baby occupied. Off he went, happily on a leisurely walk down to Central park with his niece tucked up snugly in her stroller…and the other five family members not too far behind him with take out mugs and bright, happy faces.

 

Having those slices of time off and the opportunities to relax and think about other things and take long, hot showers and actually take pride in their appearances among other things were all wonderful gifts, something that neither Kurt nor Blaine would ever take for granted.

 

But those were slightly different circumstances. Kurt and Blaine were still around, some way or how. They were never far from their family or baby, always on hand, alert, as they should be.

 

Now, they’re expected to leave the house, for a handful of hours, where they will not be just within reach or just a holler away from their child. They’ll go for dinner, go to the movies, catch a show, and maybe try out some cocktails at a fancy new bar. They may even just pass out on a park bench somewhere.

 

And it all sounds completely wonderful and something that they are so, so desperate for. So why is it so hard for them to just leave?

 

It’s not that they don’t trust Rachel, it’s just that it’s _Rachel._ The same Rachel who after just hours of giving birth was already dressed and wanting to hit the gym, and vocal classes…god knows how. 

Though honestly, no matter who it is to babysit Katie on their first night away from her for a few hours, there was always going to be reservations.

 

“Ok, so you know where the formula is, and make sure to put a bib on her…”

 

“We only try to give her a pacifier if she’s lying down. If she’s looking alert and lively then interact with her. She likes her stuffed kitty and if desperate times call for desperate measures, her activity mat is folded up behind the couch…that’s always a win.”

 

“Oh, and don’t forget to add a little of that special cream I ordered online when you change her diaper, it has a secret ingredient to prevent…”

 

“Ok, you know what you two? Just, get out. I gave birth to this chick, alright? I see her almost every day. We’re team Kachel, we’re gonna get on like a house on fire tonight…”

 

“That’s what we’re afraid of.” Kurt mutters as he’s begrudgingly ushered through his hallway to the front door, with Blaine in tow.

 

“…and Jesse is dropping by after rehearsals and he’s going to read to us his latest review. She’ll be riveted I’m sure…”

 

“Rach…”

 

“Look, Jesse and I are working on one of these ourselves, you know? We’re pro’s. We can do this.” Rachel chimes as she rocks a very amused and interested looking Katie in her arms. “Now go. Its date night. You’ll miss your table.”

 

“Ok, but you have both of our cell numbers, right?”

 

“Um, actually no. I’ve had them both for the past seven or something years but earlier today I decided to just delete them.” She says dryly. “Come on guys, seriously? Go, have fun. I know you’re worried, but don’t be. Trust me, please. I brought her safely into this world for you right?”

 

With tight lips and wide eyes, the boys eventually nod shakily, and step up close to lean down and in, pressing kisses to Rachel’s cheek and their daughter’s cute little furrowed brow as she looks up at them like she’s already so done.

 

They shuffle out of the door and on to the street, clinging to each other helplessly with each step as Rachel waves them off behind them, with a gurgling baby in her arms.

 

As it happens, all it takes is a few slow gin mojitos, a stack of bbq sauce drizzled nachos and a photo message of Rachel and Katie tucked up all snug and safe together on the couch, and Kurt and Blaine have one of the best nights of their married life, since their daughter was born.

 

They even manage to grope each other and make out a little, pressed up against their front yard wall, after their cab drives off. That is until Rachel catches them at it and taps insistently on the front window.

 

It even becomes a regular fortnightly event, with Kurt and Blaine trusting Rachel and enjoying their nights off together so much that she offers time and time again.

 

Up until the time when she has to call them at two am to remind them to stop grinding up against each other on a busy, sweaty dance floor somewhere and come home.

 

After that, they are given curfews.

 


	2. Methods of living with the Terrible Twos...and then the not so terrible stuff

Katie Hummel- Anderson is an absolute force of nature in the best and worst of ways. With her little mop of darkening curls, growing spindly arms and legs and her rapidly increasing vocabulary, she certainly rules the roost, with absolutely no qualms in where her genetics are born from; thus being the reason for such force.

 

At just twenty nine months old, when she’s demanding to watch Frozen three; Olaf stuck in summer on constant repeat, pleading for ice cream at bed time and point blank refusing to go anywhere near the bath tub or the bathroom for that matter; it’s very clear to see that she is Rachel Berry offspring.

 

Her first word at eleven months old was sing, followed closely a few weeks later by song, dance, more, me and then eventually, _thankfully_ dad and daddy. Blaine is pretty sure that after she took her first steps and was in that in between zone of walking and falling he noticed one of her typical toddler stumbles ended with a neatly sort of presented pirouette. Kurt has started having to drag her away from her own reflection when ever she’s in her play pen in his and Blaine’s bedroom, facing the floor to ceiling mirror while Kurt strips the bed and cleans and tidies.

 

Of course she has tendencies and sometimes rather over-empowering elements of her father’s also. She loves cuddles, cute little cheek kisses when you’re least expecting it, and has the sweetest, hugest grin with just minimal front teeth on display, followed by the most amazing little giggle. She loves bright, bold colors and stares at Blaine’s bowties while he has them spread out choosing which one to wear for the day. She loves watching Kurt talk, tries to imitate his facial expressions as best as she can and mimic his hand movements from her highchair as she watches her fathers talk casually at the dinner table on either side of her. The way she listens so intently to their conversation and then tests certain, simple words on her tongue in the most angelic voice, is Kurt and Blaine’s most favourite part of their day. Watching her develop and learn and thrive and knowing that they are a huge factor in that, is a feeling that never gets old, renewed each and every day.

 

She’s the most endearing and wonderful little thing, something that is purely theirs (with the help of a dear friend) and precious to no end. There’s no denying that she is an absolute joy to have around, a hoot, a ball, a blast. She’s everything that Kurt and Blaine had hoped to have felt and achieved out of parenthood. She’s amazing and beams with new love and life and importance each and everyday. She pushes them to their limits, there’s no doubt about that, she exerts every ounce of energy and willpower they have left in their bodies, but they wouldn’t change it for the world.

 

Katie will always be the apple of her father’s eye, the one person they dote on and worship more than each other.

 

But boy can she be hard work.

 

At the moment, Katie is currently presenting the side of toddlerhood vs parenthood that the books and friends and family kind of forget to warn you about. They don’t remind you that your toddler will wake you up at five in the morning with a half babbled, half rather intellectually sounding script of what ever Doc Mc’Stuffin episode she’d watched the day before.

 

Or that no matter how good and lovely and sickly sweet she has been during the whole trip around the local grocery store, if she wants to suddenly, randomly throw herself on the floor of the pasta aisle and scream to the top of her lungs because she just needs to have a packet of raw ravioli; then she will and apparently does not have to give a reason why.

 

Ok, so it’s not so fun and life changing when your endearing, apple of your eye shows you up in public, that much is true.

 

Although that time in central park when Katie decided to strip herself of her clothing during their sunny afternoon family picnic and run circles around Kurt on the grass while he chased her with her sundress was pretty hilarious; Blaine had to admit.

 

And let’s not forget the time during dinner with Rachel and Jesse, when Katie decided to take a particular disliking to the little piece of torn bread that Blaine had offered her; taking it from his hands rather politely before abruptly throwing it back in his face. Nobody could stop laughing that time, nobody. Including several wait staff, nearby diners and Blaine and Katie herself, who had then decided to repeat the action as often as she could with whatever she could get her cute, chubby fingers wrapped around to try and ignite the same reaction as before.

 

Kurt and Blaine have become very in-tuned to their daughter’s behaviour, that’s for sure. She’s not a naughty child, not by a long shot. She’s very sweet and kind and loving, she thrives on learning new things and new experiences. But at the end of the day she’s just two years old, this is who she is and what she does, her behaviour is expected. Screaming and shouting, putting things in her mouth that don’t belong there, ripping up her daddy’s  composition notes, are all things among others which are all experiences that help her learn and grow and just _know_.

 

However, as it happens it’s only after Kurt comes home from gruelling rehearsals one afternoon, his feet tired and achy, his throat and vocal chords sore and his whole body demanding to be bathed, fed and rested with cuddles and kisses from his husband and daughter; that he realizes a line needs to be drawn.

 

After tidying his coat, bag and shoes away in the hall closet, Kurt stretches his neck and back out as he walks tiredly over to the staircase in search of his beloved little family- and stops short, deadly still and silent.

 

From the first step up to at least the third or forth, there are a series of very clear, vivid red, wavy lines of waxed crayon, staining the ivory painted walls of the enclosed staircase, in a variety of unnamed shapes and patterns.

 

Funnily and miraculously enough, she has managed to incorporate her wavy, smudged squiggles in with the champagne shaded, engraved leaf and ivy print which snakes regally up the walls, following the steps and the balustrade.

 

Kurt’s first reaction is to be acutely impressed before he collects himself and remembers that this hallway had just been redecorated a handful of months ago. Kurt’s foot rises automatically to take one careful step upwards, thinks better of it then backs down again.

 

“Blaine?” He calls up the stairs, voice even and steady. Eerily and uncharacteristically calm and quiet.  

 

“Hey, sweetheart. You’re home early.” Comes Blaine’s happy, seemingly oblivious voice from one of the upstairs rooms, maybe the office or Katie’s playroom.

 

Kurt clears his throat. “Uh-huh. Could you come downstairs please? Bring Katie with you.” Kurt steps back, arms folded across his front, eyes wide as he drinks in the sight in front of him, still disbelieving of what he’s actually seeing and unsure of exactly what to do next.

 

There’s a shuffling of feet from upstairs, a chattering of quiet voices, a clatter and a clunk which sounds like Katie’s toys being thrown carelessly into her toy trunk and then Blaine appears at the top of the stairs with Katie in his arms clinging to his hip.

 

“Dad!!!” Katie cries out excitedly, waving her arms when she sees Kurt standing at the bottom of the staircase looking up at them. “Dad, dad, dad!”

 

“I think that’s two people very happy to see you.” Blaine chuckles and winks down at Kurt as he starts descending the staircase.

 

Kurt smiles tightly, takes a step back and waits for his husband and daughter to reach him, waits for realization to set in and the delayed reaction to follow.

 

“Kurt, honey, are you ok?” Blaine asks as he steps down closer, Katie squawking and squirming in his arms. “Did you have another bad rehearsal? You know that you should give that Joel kid a stern talking to…”

 

Blaine trails off he reaches the last step, Katie starts to slide down from his arms, landing safely on her feet on the floor and wobbles over to Kurt, wrapping her arms around his legs.

 

Kurt gulps and waits. He pats at Katie’s head because he doesn’t just want to ignore his daughter after a day of not seeing her, but all the while he watches Blaine look up and down at the wall.

 

Kurt waits and waits, he tries to silently placate his daughter who doesn’t know why her dad isn’t picking her up and giving her cuddles and kisses already. Anticipation starts to tingle over his skin like gooseflesh as the wait grows longer. Something needs to be done, why isn’t Blaine saying anything-

 

“Oh my god.” Blaine’s voice is quiet almost a whisper, and then another “Oh. My. God.” This time louder, a little more forceful.

 

Blaine swings his head around to look down at Katie and then back up at Kurt with a flick of his eyes, question and disbelief sparkling in his eyes.

 

“Maybe go easy on the blaspheming honey.” Kurt stage whispers but it’s too late, Katie’s already giggling, parading around her father’s legs in their small huddle by the stair case, sing-songing the holy father’s name.

 

“Great.”

 

“Katie.” Blaine says. When she doesn’t reply, he goes in for the kill. “Katherine Hummel-Anderson.” He says, eyebrow raised in question, his voice just a little more hard and pronounced as he bends down to his daughters level and takes her hands to stand her still and look at him. “Daddy said a word he doesn’t want you repeating, ok? I’m sorry about that, but listen…” Kurt watches on curiously, intrigued. Blaine points to the red stained wall. “Why did you do this? When did you even do this, daddy has been watching you all day?”

 

Kurt had been thinking this himself. They have a stair gate on the first floor landing and safety gates attached to each of the door frames downstairs. Katie can’t get to the stairs without assistance, for safety reasons of course.          

 

Katie stands still and quiet, her bottom lip jutting out a little and her gaze flicking down to the floor and then back up at her daddy’s serious face with his furrowed brow. “This makes daddy and dad sad, do you know that? Do you understand why?” He asks her. “You draw and color on paper and in your picture books. Not on our walls or furniture. You got that?”

 

It’s like a stand off. Katie continues to stare, unmoving like a statue, refusing to interact or comply in anyway and Blaine refuses to budge.

 

Kurt is absolutely enthralled, unable to take his eyes off of the little mutiny happening in front of him, more so his husband, actually. Kurt finds Blaine so strangely, sexually attractive right now, not that he doesn’t anyway but this isn’t a typical circumstance where you would normally want to rip your husband’s clothes off and maul him right there on the rug. But there’s something about this side of Blaine, the control rolling off of him is somewhat captivating.

 

Blaine has never disciplined Katie before, not like this. Sure there have been times when he’s laughed a little at whatever she’s done or said but then always tried talking to her like a proper little adult, explaining the pros and cons of her actions and words. And whenever she had playfully caught Kurt’s nose during a little squabble or snatch something out of his hands, Kurt would pretend to cry and Katie would be reprimanded and learn the rights and wrongs that way.

 

Kurt wasn’t really sure what he was expecting when he called Blaine down the stairs. He knew that something had to be done and said, but he wasn’t sure exactly what action to take or who would be the one to take it.

 

But he didn’t expect this. Blaine seems genuinely, strangely…upset about this. “Katie.” Blaine sighs, wriggling her hands in his to try and get her to look at him. “This is bad behaviour and it’s made us sad. Why did you do this when daddy wasn’t watching? Where is the red crayon now?”

 

Katie still chooses to ignore him, her stare turning a little hard and glacial, a little unsettling for a two year old. Kurt shuffles his feet restlessly, takes a step to the side and accidently folds up the corner of the ornate rug, revealing a crushed up mess of red, wax crayon, with criminal smudges over the hardwood floor. “Umm, Blaine?”

 

When Blaine turns to look his brow furrows even more that Kurt worries his eyebrows will actually fall from his forehead, he scrunches his face up, his cheeks turning a little pink and then rises carefully to his feet, letting go of Katie’s hands.

 

“I’m sorry Kurt.” Blaine says, eyes wide as he looks at him, voice soft and quiet, sounding a little broken, actually. Kurt’s heart melts. “I’m sorry this happened when she was in my care and you were working. She must have done it while I was at the front door talking to the mailman, for like four seconds. How did I miss it? I don’t even know where she found that crayon, her mark making stuff is…”

 

“Hey, hey calm down…” Kurt reaches out to squeeze Blaine’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t be silly, don’t apologise to me. Let just focus on Katie right now, ok? She didn’t hurt herself thankfully. It could have been worse, right?”

 

Blaine nods, biting his lip. He entwines his fingers with Kurt’s and squeezes, a warm gesture of reassurance, a silent agreement of “ _We’re in this together, we’ll deal with this together.”_

 

They both turn to look down at their daughter, hands undone and pinned to their hips, a mixture of sad and mad expressions on their faces, ready to take her on and get something out of her.

 

And at that moment, an absolute melt down occurs.

 

Katie completely breaks down, throws herself to the floor and starts wailing. Screaming, “No-noooo” at the top of her lungs, over and over, little balled up fists banging on the floor at her sides, legs and feet kicking up in the air. 

 

Kurt and Blaine are perplexed, stunned to silence. Blaine had hardly even raised his voice, hadn’t even got around to any disciplinary actions yet. Kurt hadn’t even said a word to her.

 

She only pauses to inhale a breath, turning her head to the side, blinking through tears to make sure she’s still being watched and then goes at it again; full throttle with an increase in volume and pitch and extra anger in those little pitiful punches and kicks into the air.

 

Kurt has to raise a hand to his mouth and rest the other in the crook of Blaine’s elbow. He genuinely doesn’t know what to do right now. He could laugh if it wasn’t for the fact that he feels like tearing up. This is a rebellion happening right now in his hallway, started and lead by his sweet, baby girl. And all he wanted to do was take a shower, kick back and relax with dinner and watch cartoons with his daughter, while being held in his husband’s arms.

 

Blaine silently turns his head to look at Kurt. Kurt looks back at him, jaw slack, mouth slightly agape, words escaping both of them. A silent answer to an unasked question.

 

Katie seems to realize this, and a few moments later when the tears dry in salty tracks on her cheeks and the sobs are reduced to sniffles, Katie gets up and shuffles over to her fathers. A thumb in her mouth and her other hand clinging to Blaine’s pants.

 

“My sor-wey.” She mumbles, blinking up at both of them with a little pink tipped nose and rosy cheeks, her curls matted to her head.

 

Together they sink to their knees and take their daughter in their arms, embracing her in a loving big old three-way hug.

 

What else is there is to be said to a toddler of her age and concentration span? She knows, she gets it, _hopefully._ There’s no harm done, apart from a few tears, and an eccentrically refurbished wall. 

 

Later that evening, Blaine can hear Kurt finishing off Katie’s bedtime story as he sits on the bottom step and scrubs determinedly at the wall, to his relief the crayon washes off easily enough with very little evidence of the afternoons exploits.

 

He absentmindedly smiles to himself as the muscles in his arms start to ache with each push and pull motion. No matter what situation Katie throws at them next, Blaine wouldn’t have it any other way, knowing that with Kurt by his side as his co-parent, his husband, his lover and best friend they could conquer anything.

 

Blaine could not think of anybody else he’d rather be dealing with the highs and lows of parenthood with other than Kurt. He’d take a graffiti wall, an upturned couch cushion or a juice spill on the kitchen floor any time or day, if it meant he’d get to keep his family close to him.

 

Though next time his little angel pulls a stunt like this, it’s definitely Kurt’s turn to deal with the aftermath.

 

 

~Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please review if you’re still around and indulging me with my crazy fluff.


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